


How am I to Live Without You?

by LuckyCharmies



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017), Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF, Call Me By Your Name - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Happy Ending, M/M, Oliver Jackson-Cohen is not married, Strained Relationships, Total Utter Fiction
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-05-06
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:27:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23663854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuckyCharmies/pseuds/LuckyCharmies
Summary: Timmy and Armie are in the midst of filming the Call Me By Your Name Sequel. Returning to Crema brings back feelings between the two of them. Armie is trying to recapture those stolen moments, while Timmy is trying desperately to keep those feelings buried in the past. Timmy knows how the first movie ended. The bromance he and Armie lived IRL had also ended just as badly. Timmy vows to never have his heart broken by Armie again.
Relationships: Timothée Chalamet/Armie Hammer, Timothée Chalamet/Oliver Jackson-Cohen
Comments: 89
Kudos: 129





	1. Welcome Back to Ground Zero

**Author's Note:**

> [Favorite Oliver J-C Face Pic](https://www.imdb.com/name/nm2719825/mediaviewer/rm2155327744)   
>  [Favorite Oliver J-C Interview](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZDZnYtKwgys)

“Cut!”

Alarm bells ring in the background of the soundstage and all the crew begin to congratulate each other as the first segment of production for the Call Me By Your Name sequel comes to a close.

In the eyes of the production crew, Timmy and Armie have quickly reconnected and settled comfortably back into their roles as Elio and Oliver, and the last ten days of filming seemed to have flown by. Gauging by the look on everyone’s faces, they were all glad to be back on track, and working on the storytelling again.

If the look on Luca’s face was any indicator, Timmy knows his director couldn’t have been more pleased. It feels good to back here in Crema, he admits to himself, reliving the special moments of the first film, and recollecting on why the movie was so special in the eyes of a whole multitude of people.

“Mr. Chalamet?” A young production assistant comes striding toward Timmy. “Your next call sheet, sir.” Denny hands him a slip of paper, then says, “You have an appointment at 8:00pm this evening to meet Mr. Oliver Jackson-Cohen, your co-star for the next production segment. That’s in about 2 hours, sir.”

Ten days into production, and the young PA can’t seem to get over being assigned to a principal actor, especially since that actor is Timothée Chalamet. He still seems so star-struck with Timmy.

“I understand you have never met him before, sir?” Denny inquires.

“No, I haven’t had the pleasure yet, but since he’s going to be my love interest.. er.. I mean, Elio’s love interest, for the next 3 weeks of filming… I guess I better get to know him really quick,” Timmy says, flashing a wide grin. Denny’s face blushes pink and then manages to say, “Yes, sir… I expect you’d have to.”

Timmy looks down at his call sheet and sees that Luca has given him three days to get to know Oliver and that they would be flying to New England together to meet the crew back in the states.

‘O, how ironic’, Timmy thinks to himself, as he rakes his curls with his fingers. His soon-to-be co-star shares the same name as Elio’s love interest. How fun this will be, trying to separate the two in his crowded headspace. Timmy sighs. ‘Well, at least this guy isn’t married,’ he consoles himself, having sworn off married men, including Armie in that number.

Timmy had been so caught up with the production for the first movie, losing himself in the role of Elio. It certainly didn’t help that Armie, who was straight, married, had a kid, and another one on the way at the time, played his character, Oliver, perfectly, as well.

And through the months and months of promos that followed, Timmy was convinced that there was something genuine between himself and Armie. And at times, there really was, with the kissing, and the hugging, and the stealing glances, and the way their so-called bromance played out in front of family and friends, in front of the media, in front of the fans.

But Timmy also remembered how it all ended. How Armie chose his wife and his family over the possibility of a life with him. And how that wound was reopened, when Armie asked him to meet up with him, one last time, so Timmy can present an award to him in Texas.

The young, vulnerable heart he gave away to Armie in the early days of 2016 has long since died and been buried. They were truly actors now – playing the parts the universe gave them. The parts that Timmy had cherished then, the parts that Armie had so cruelly squandered. It was then that Timmy vowed to himself, that he would never let his heart be broken by Armie again.

“Timmy, are you okay?”

“Huh?”

He looks up and sees Armie standing close to him, his large warm hands on his shoulders. “Are you okay,” Armie repeats quietly, looking worried. “You just seemed so far away right now, and you didn’t respond when Luca and I were calling you over for a chat. Timmy looks past Armie and sees Luca, who is talking to an assistant, but who keeps glancing toward him and Armie with a concerned look etched on his face.

Timmy’s grip on his call sheet loosens – it slips through his fingers and it falls to the ground. He bends down to retrieve it but Armie beats him to it, and their heads bump into each other. Timmy straightens up as Armie does, and feels his face blossoming pink. Armie reads the call sheet, and in mock-despair, exclaims, “This is so unfair. Why do you get three days off while I still have another day of filming?”

Timmy plasters a smile on his face and squints at Armie. Armie is so good at this. Making sure that he teases Timmy loudly enough so that everyone can hear. And it never fails – every time they are in close quarters with one another, are interacting with each other, a hush seems to fall around the room, and everyone smiles, and whispers, and nods.

“What did you guys want to talk to me about?”

“Well, we were thinking about discussing the next segments of production over dinner and some drinks,” Armie says warmly. “Right,” says Timmy unconvinced. “Luca knows I have a dinner date with Oliver tonight.” Armie raises his eyebrows at Timmy. “I mean my Oliver,” Timmy says, cheeks heating up. “I mean… you damn well know what I mean.. Oliver Jackson-Cohen,” he finishes, as Armie looks down at him, amused.

“Are you trying to make me jealous, Timmy?”

Timmy shakes his head and tucks the loose curls around his reddening ears. He takes a deep breath and flashes a look at Armie. “You don’t have to worry about that right now. It’s more than a few scenes in until we reach the part that he and Elio start making wedding plans. I’ll be sure to have Elio send you an invitation.” Timmy smirks and turns on his heel to walk toward Luca.

Armie reaches for him and whirls him around. “Don’t think you can dismiss me that easily, Timmy,” he growls softly, so that no one can hear this except Timmy. A look of decided seduction is apparent in Armie’s face, yet coupled with a masked look of derision. “Is this ‘Oliver’ speaking, or is this you speaking, Armie, ‘cause to be honest, sometimes I can’t tell the two of you apart.”

Timmy and Armie take a moment to glance around. It seems everyone has gone quiet again and they all seemed to be mesmerized by the interaction unfolding between the two of them. Thankfully, Luca takes this opportunity to walk toward them with a big grin on his face. “Bellissima.. Both of you were wonderful today,” he says with open arms and he hugs them both in a tight embrace. Everyone on the set gives a round of applause.

“Luca, did you forget that I was to meet Oliver tonight?” Timmy asks innocently. “Of course I didn’t, my dear,” he replies. “Armie and I will be there, too, you know.” Timmy glances at Armie as Luca continues. “It will a great opportunity for all of us to get to know him better.”

“That would be wonderful,” Timmy says, matching Luca’s enthusiasm. Armie nods at both of them but stays silent.

‘Great… just great..' Timmy thinks to himself.


	2. An Evening at Botero

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Timmy and Armie finally meet Oliver Jackson-Cohen. They find that the evening reveals an unexpected twist in the road.

‘Dammit, dammit, dammit..’ Timmy berates himself as he quickly strides across Ex Centro, the town square right in the middle of Crema proper. Why was he always so goddamn late?! Armie and Luca, who were always early to meetings, must be there already, as would be his new co-star, Oliver Jackson-Cohen, who Denny informed him had been picked up at 5:00AM that morning at Fiumicino.

Glancing at his watch, he’s sees its nearly 830PM. He shakes his head, as he chuckles softly to himself, at least he wasn’t arriving four hours late, as he had done once in LA when he was invited to Armie’s daughter’s birthday party.

He remembers that day fondly, standing tentatively in front of Armie’s door, desperately wishing away the awkwardness of arriving so late, and his profound relief, finding that Armie was so elated, so forgiving, so glad, that his Timmy was there at last.

“Fuck,” he mutters and nervously rakes his hair with his fingers as he crosses a street toward the restaurant. Timmy knows he can’t think of those things, knows he can’t dwell on the fuzzy, warm feelings that burst to life every time he breaks this rule, and he knows full well that he can’t, not if he is to ensure that those things, those feelings, remain buried in the past.

He stands tentatively in front of Botero, an upscale restaurant that serves Italian/Mediterranean fare, and takes a deep calming. 'Okay, here we go… let’s do this..’ he says under his breath and walks in.

“Ahh, Signore Chalamet… Che bel giovane.. il mio cuore sta saltando di gioia …” Giancarlo, the maitre d’ of Botero, loudly proclaims, then ostentatiously throws his hands into the air as he marches toward Timmy and pulls him into a quick embrace. Timmy flushes pink as the rest of the wait staff, who are present in the lobby, break out into loud applause.

“Sofia, please show Mister Timmy where his table is,” says Giancarlo over the continued applause, as he nods to a young blonde-haired girl with a pony tail. Sofia smiles shyly at Timmy and wordlessly, leads him to his table to find Luca, Armie, and Oliver standing as he approaches.

“I knew it had to be you who just walked in,” Armie says warmly, a twinkle in his eyes. “Who else would have gotten such a reception?!” Timmy smiles back at Armie, then, sensing warmth creeping up his face, quickly looks away and nods and smiles at Luca and then turns his attention to Oliver.

“Hi, I’m…” but Timmy is interrupted by Oliver as Oliver says, teasingly, “A beautiful young man… I certainly agree… and yes, my heart is jumping for joy… in getting to meet you at last,” as he echoes Giancarlo’s Italian sentiments. Timmy's eyes widen.

“You’re British?... and you understand Italian?!” Timmy’s chest tightens a little as he tries to catch his breath. Oliver’s British drawl is downright sexy, and his bright, blue-green eyes are mesmerizing. Timmy looks up to Oliver’s smiling face, at his neatly cut beard, and finds himself unsure why this feels so familiar.

“Yes.. and yes..” Oliver murmurs softly to Timmy as notices that Timmy is a little taken by his presence. Timmy looks at Luca, who is standing back a little, taking in this interaction, with his fist to his mouth, looking at Timmy with smiling eyes and a knowing look. Then Timmy chances at glance at Armie, who is also smiling, but his eyes are sharply focused, and maybe, Timmy senses, is hiding a bit of annoyance.

“Please, let us all take our seats,” says Luca, arms motioning them to sit down. “Sorry you all had to wait,” Timmy says apologetically, as he glances around the table and then notices that everyone has already had their first round of drinks.

“Sofia, please bring Mister Chalamet a rum and coke,” Luca says, and Sofia nods and turns to leave. “We were just beginning to talk about how this film is coming along. As you know, you and Oliver here will be flying to the states to begin rehearsals on your own while Armie and I finish tomorrow and wrap up here. I trust that I don’t have to watch over you both as you get to know each other a bit better,” Luca says encouragingly.

Oliver turns from Luca to Timmy. “Well, I must admit, I think it’s going to be fairly easy to fall in love with you, Timmy,” Oliver says, searching for a reaction in Timmy’s face. “What I mean, is, I can see how a guy like me would fall hard, for a guy like you.” Oliver’s eyes are smoldering, as if it were only the two of them existing inside this room, sharing an intimate moment.

Timmy’s eyes unfocus for a moment as he stares back, and then sees a look of recognition forming on Oliver’s handsome face, knowing that he has affected Timmy somehow, then his face glows as it turns into a look of conquest, a look of total triumph, and Oliver breaks into a toothy grin.

Armie, who had been swirling his bourbon around its glass, takes a sideways glance at Oliver. His jaw tenses. Then he glances at Timmy, and gives him a look that says ‘well, fuck… two can play at this game.’

Luca leans back, recognizes what is unfolding in front of him, and grins at Timmy’s look of unease as Armie laughs loudly, seemingly unaffected by the exchange Oliver and Timmy just had. Armie nudges Oliver in the shoulder with his own.

“Maybe you didn’t read the script in its entirety, because, if you did, you would know that Timmy ultimately ends up with me,” Armie says smugly.

Oliver turns his head to look at Armie, a glint in his eyes. “Don’t you mean ‘Elio’ ultimately end up with ‘Oliver’?!” Luca looks away and ducks his head, grinning even more broadly.

Armie replies quietly, “Good… so you do know how this story ends.”

Luca finds Timmy staring at him intensely with a bewildered look, so Luca quickly stands up and hugs Armie and Oliver from behind to defuse them both. “It is so nice of you both to understand the roles that you must play.”

Thankfully, Sofia returns with Timmy’s drink. The tension waning a bit, the wait staff begin to deliver the first course of the dinner. “I hope you don’t mind, Timmy, I was thinking to order all the specialties of the restaurant for our first meal together.”

Timmy nods in agreement and they all begin to eat from the plates of salad, antipasto and risotto soup. Next comes dishes of seafood, pastas, and grilled and braised meats. The meal passes uneventfully, spent in drinking, eating, the conversation punctuated with anecdotes and easy banter.

As the desserts are placed onto the table, Timmy leans back and announces, “ugh.. I’m too stuffed.. I’m sorry,” as he gently rubs his belly. “You really do need to eat more, you know,” Luca chides gently and Timmy, groaning, returns Luca’s warm smile.

“Well, getting back to the script,” Luca looks around to make sure all three of his stars are paying attention. “As you know, James has returned to writing the script with me, since we both didn’t quite like where Mr. Aciman’s book sequel, Find Me, was heading. Please don’t get me wrong – we both like the book well enough, but we find that this material might not be as useful to us as we first thought. The goal is to continue telling the story of Elio and Oliver as we envisioned it.”

“Also,” Luca continues, “Armie here told me last year about his doubts about where the sequel might lead us to, and, while Sony has green-lighted this production, and approved all the financing we need, they really want to see a film that resonates with all of the fans, and replicates the resounding success of the first film.”

“So,” Luca says carefully, “I must confess to all three of you, that we are not really certain where this story may lead us. It has been agreed that we shall, for the most part, follow the script, but make allowances for changes here and there as this story unfolds organically.”

Timmy, Armie and Oliver just stare back at Luca, taken aback by the pronouncement. Luca grins to all of them. “Please don’t make worries in your head. I promise that this movie will end up how it is supposed to end up. With the crew and the studio happy, with my actors happy, and with the fans happy.”

They all glance at each other and nod and hope that this will be the case. The script is good enough as it is, and they all seem to be grateful that James Ivory has relented and has come back to help continue this story with Luca. Port and dessert wines are being served as dishes are cleared away.

Oliver leans forward to whisper into Timmy’s ear. “Well, I guess that means that there’s still a chance that you will end up with me.” Timmy ducks his head and feels the tips of his ears reddening. He raises one eyebrow and smiles shyly at Oliver.

Luca is nodding and listening to Armie talking about Trattoria Via Vai, the restaurant that Armie loves in nearby Bolzone, and how he wants to see chef Stefano again. But as he is listening, his eyes are focused at Timmy and Oliver. Something in Luca’s face is telling him that he is watching him and Oliver very closely.

Timmy shuts his eyes a moment. What the fuck is Luca playing at?!

He opens his eyes again when he hears Luca shifting their conversation to what will happen in the scenes for tomorrow, and Luca and Armie start to spell out, in detail, what the expectations are for tomorrow.

Timmy stands up and looks around to all of them and Armie and Luca abruptly stop their conversation, mid-sentence.

“Sorry,“ Timmy says, “I think I’ll be heading back now, if you all don’t mind. It’s been such a wonderful evening.”

Oliver stand up too, and asks Timmy, “Will you let me walk you back home?” Timmy’s lips part slightly at this. Luca leans back again and grins, eyes quickly darting back and forth between Timmy and Oliver. Armie’s face remains unreadable.

“Uh yeah… that would be nice,” replies Timmy. Oliver turns to Armie and Luca and bids them both a good evening. Both Luca and Armie stand, Armie shaking Oliver’s hand and telling him it was good to finally meet him. Timmy nods and smiles to both Armie and Luca, then Oliver turns to usher Timmy through the main dining area.

As they head towards the main entrance, Timmy turns quickly to find that Armie and Luca are still standing, Armie watching him walk away with Oliver, Luca, by Armie’s side, looking intently at Armie.

Oliver holds the door open for Timmy, and they walk out into the sultry night.


	3. A Walk Down Memory Lane

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver walks Timmy home.

“Armie is an odd bird, isn’t he?”

“Hmm?” Timmy stands still as he looks up into Oliver’s blue-green eyes.

They had left Botero over two hours ago and were lazily strolling towards their hotel, chatting away about their acting experiences, and what motivated them to join the industry.

When Oliver started asking about the town, asking how Crema was like four years ago, and asking how it might have changed since then, Timmy grabbed his hand and led him around to all his former haunts.

They had walked all over Piazza Duomo, with Timmy pointing out the best places for gelato and pizza, faithfully recalling all he remembered of those happy days. Timmy’s face lit up, positively glowing, as he showed Oliver all the places withing walking distance that were showcased during the filming in 2016.

There were no real hotels back then in Crema, Timmy explained. Luca had a villa in town, but the actors and the crew took all the places for rent in the area. Even some of Luca’s neighbors and friends had opened their homes to them.

Getting invited to be here early, getting to know the town, the language, the people, was all a luxury that Timmy had never experienced before.

Growing up in New York City, there weren’t a lot of opportunities to learn how to skillfully ride a bike, so he was thankful for that as well, learning all the skills he needed to portray Elio convincingly – like playing the piano, like speaking in Italian, like looking as if he’d been riding bicycles all his life.

Then when Armie arrived, Luca had suggested that Timmy show him the town as a way to get to know each other better. Their daily excursions, their discoveries, it all felt like they were going out on dates somehow, and Timmy and Armie had let the shared experiences blossom on their own, and help them make a path into shared intimacies.

Timmy recalled happily on how Armie’s character emerged from La Provincia, set-dressed as a newsstand, while his character, Elio, rode up to him on a bicycle, and how, on the very first take of this scene, Timmy had yelled out “Armie!” instead of “Oliver!” to the amusement of the production crew.

He was glad it was dark, dark enough to where Oliver wouldn’t see the pink flush rising in his cheeks, when Oliver told Timmy he remembered this particular scene from watching the movie, remembered the honestly sensual look on Armie’s face, when his character asked Elio, ‘Do you know how happy I am we slept together?’

Oliver confessed he envied Armie at the time, getting to experience that moment, even if it was all make-believe, getting to share the moment with such a beautiful boy like Timmy.

Suddenly Timmy’s mind is thrust back into the present, as he feels Oliver’s warm hands press into his. “Hey, where did you go just now?” he asks Timmy in a low whisper. Timmy shakes his head to clear it, then focuses his eyes back onto Oliver’s. His lips part slightly, but no words come.

Oliver doesn’t seem too surprised that Timmy doesn’t answer, and he feels himself leaning in a little, staring at Timmy’s soft, scarlet lips. They are close enough that each can feel the other’s ragged, hot breath, and Timmy feels himself losing his grip on what’s real, as the moment escalates.

Then Timmy, feeling confused, ducks his head a little, and tries to step back, only to feel his body hit a wall behind him, as Oliver steps in to reclaim the lost space between them.

Oliver quickly leans in for a kiss, as Timmy, still unsure of what’s going on, tilts his head back, and Oliver’s lips ravage his chin and neck instead.

‘Fuck. What is happening?!’ Timmy thinks to himself, eyes shut tight, as his mind races, while his body responds for him, as he loses himself further and further in the moment.

A part of him wants to whisper Oliver’s name, but another part of him wants to whisper Armie’s name. Armie is Oliver, and Oliver is Armie, their faces, their names, both merging, both the same, as it all becomes entangled, a blur in the rising heat.

Oliver finds Timmy’s lips and presses down insistently, as Timmy, no longer caring who the fuck he is kissing, presses back, seemingly rising to the challenge, opening up, and deepening the bruising kiss.

Oliver’s tongue finds its way inside Timmy’s mouth, desperate and hungrily searching, as Timmy’s hands roam around Oliver’s chest, fumbling on the buttons of Oliver’s shirt, seeking the warmth of his body.

Oliver’s hands hold Timmy’s slight hips to his own, pressing, grinding into him, wanting him to feel his growing need, rapidly hardening, lengthening, wanting to make his need evident. Oliver pulls up on Timmy’s shirt, desperate to feel his skin on his own, to let Timmy take whatever he wants to take from him.

Just as he feels himself surrendering, Timmy comes to his senses, eyes opening wide.

“Stop,” he says hoarsely, “please… stop.” Timmy’s hands press against Oliver. “Fuck,” Oliver whispers, as he reluctantly yields, and presses his sweaty forehead into Timmy’s. Both of them breathing heavily, both trying to calm down.

Not trusting himself, Timmy steps aside a couple of paces, swallowing hard, chest still heaving, bringing the back of his hand to his mouth, wiping the moisture that has settled there.

Oliver turns and then leans his body against the wall, raking his fingers though his hair, all the while staring at Timmy, willing himself not to lose it again, not to breach the space between them, and take Timmy into his arms again.

“I’m sorry,” Timmy finally manages to say, shakily. “Oh God,” he says as his breath catches, “What must you think of me,” his hands quickly coming up to hide his face.

Suddenly, Oliver is at his side, drawing him in tightly, back in his arms. “No, no, no,” Oliver whispers softly into Timmy’s curls. “No… It’s my fault… it’s all my fault,” he says huskily, slowly rocking Timmy back and forth.

They stand there, Timmy’s face hidden against Oliver’s chest, as time slowly ticks by. After a long moment, Timmy looks up at Oliver. “I really don’t know what’s come over me,” he says apologetically, then he turns his face away and leans against Oliver’s shoulder, knowing his face is so easily read.

Oliver rubs his face against Timmy’s soft skin. “I know what you mean,” he admits. “I’m elated, I’m dizzy, I’m confused.. all at once, like someone has placed a spell on me.”

Timmy’s shoulder quake, as he simply cannot suppress his giggles. “Are you laughing at me?” Oliver asks, teasingly, still holding him tight. “No, not at all” Timmy says chuckling softly. “I think someone has, somehow, given both us the same love potion or something,” shaking his head.

Oliver’s voice is so relaxing, and Timmy feels like he could just fall asleep right now, standing here, feeling safe, in his warm embrace. A voice inside his head warns him how dangerous this could be.

He raises his head to look at Oliver. “Walk me home?” he asks. Oliver chuckles and says, “I think that was the original plan.” He reluctantly releases Timmy, then gently clasps his hand, leading him across the square to their hotel.

They continue to relax, to joke, to talk about how they might try to rehearse when they get into New England. The sounds of their steps, their easy conversation, their laughter, echo softly around the empty town square.

They climb up the steps to the second floor, where Timmy’s suite is, walking down an empty balustrade using hushed voices, then turn the corner to go down the hallway where Timmy’s door is.

Both Timmy and Oliver stop abruptly, as they see a figure sitting beside Timmy’s door, his back against the wall, arms holding his knees to his chest, head leaning down. Timmy swallows hard as he recognizes who this must be.

“Armie?” Timmy says, as he approaches him, Oliver following a few paces back.

Armie looks up at the sound of his name, a dazed look on his face. Then he focuses and sees his Timmy. For a split-second, happiness seems to break out onto his face. He jumps up to his feet then suddenly notices Oliver behind Timmy, looking at him with concern. Then Armie’s eyes focus sharply, as he notices the disheveled clothing, the ruffled hair, both sets of red, puffy lips. He takes a sharp intake of breath.

Armie’s face flushes with heat as he realizes what is happening and the brief look of elation seeing his Timmy, is suddenly replaced by a look of hurt, and his face begins to fall. He mutters shakily, “I’m sorry… I don’t know why I’m even here..” then he swiftly walks past the pair, giving Timmy a quick glance, then starts running down the hallway.

“Armie, wait!” Timmy calls after him. He breaks out into a run to chase Armie but Armie is too quick. By the time he rounds the corner and reaches the stairs of the balustrade, Armie is running across the empty square. "Armie, please.. come back!!" Timmy says desperately. Armie doesn't turn and is quickly swallowed up into darkness.

“What the hell?!” he mutters as his hands fly up to his face, and he feels Oliver at his side, silently embracing him from behind.


	4. Regret and Rage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After chasing Armie and finding him nowhere, Timmy runs to Luca for help.

“Oh thank God,” Timmy groans, as the door to Luca’s villa finally swings open and he blindly stepped forward to sob uncontrollably and rest his head on the warm expanse of chest before him. Timmy’s body is racked with sobs and the intensity of his weeping has rendered him quite speechless.

On seeing Armie fleeing the scene in front of his hotel room, Timmy was being comforted by Oliver. But somehow, in his heart of hearts, he knew the right thing to do, right now, that very moment, was to chase after Armie and try to explain to him, what, he didn’t even know. He just knew he had to do it.

Oliver had offered to help him but Timmy refused, wanting to keep the two apart, both physically and, he had to admit to himself, mentally, as well. He was weary of having to constantly delineate between the two of them. They were both so similar, in so many ways, it was confusing Timmy.

When he couldn’t find Armie at his place, he went straight for Luca’s villa. Luca would help him. He knew he could. Luca would help them both. Timmy knew Luca loved both of them.

He had been pounding on Luca’s door, evermore frantically. It was, after all, just a few minutes past four in the morning. He might have woken up the entire street for all the pounding he did. When the door finally opened, Timmy almost expected a reprimand of sorts from Luca, who has always been sort of a father-figure to Timmy, but most importantly, Luca was a true confidante.

Timmy was very open with Luca, and had told everything to Luca, had not left any detail out. He revealed his relationship with Armie and confided even his uncertainty and his regrets. Such was Luca’s friendship and relationship with Timmy. Even from the very beginning. Luca was a genius. He could help Timmy sort this out.

Now here he was, sobbing uncontrollably, and he felt long arms embracing him tightly and pulling him over the threshold, so the door can close behind him, away from prying eyes.

Timmy kept his eyes shut, and when tried to open them, his found vision was blurry, unable to focus, so he kept his eyes shut tightly, willing himself to calm down enough to speak.

Timmy sounded a bit incoherent as he attempted to plead for Luca’s help. “I’m so sorry,” he says, shakily, still under the strain of so much erupting emotions.

“Oliver and I… we didn’t get to my place until about 30 minutes ago,” Timmy manages to say through tears. “Armie.. Armie was there… he was waiting for me… then he saw I was with Oliver… and…” more tears rush out of Timmy’s eyes.

“He thought… Armie must have thought.. oh God..” Timmy groaned. “Bu we didn’t… I swear we didn’t..” Timmy whimpered. “I know how it must have looked like..” Timmy squeaks out, as more tears stain his cheeks. “But I swear we didn’t... nothing… nothing happened,” Timmy manages to finish, then begins sobbing again.

The arms enfolding him tighten in response, and Timmy feels warm, ragged breaths seeping into his curls. Then he hears Luca’s voice say, “You went looking for Armie?” Timmy nods vigorously at hearing this, and starts sobbing again, replaying the visions in his head. “Armie… seemed so hurt seeing Oliver and I together… and then… and then… he ran away…” Timmy whimpers again.

After a long moment, Timmy manages to continue. “I had to find him.. to explain..” his eyes still shut tight, returning the warm embrace. “I had to find him, Luca… I had to find him and explain.. It tore my heart out.. to see Armie in such pain… pain that I must have caused,” he sobs. Timmy hides his face into the warm crook between the neck and shoulder being offered to him.

“There, there my love… please don’t cry.. “Luca says consolingly and he feels a hand stroking his hair. Then Luca says quietly. and almost carefully, “what would you tell Armie if he was here… right here… right now?”

Timmy shakes his head and squeezes tighter. “I don’t know… I don’t really know what I would say to him…” You must try Timmy, to tell Armie how you feel… so he knows… so that there is no doubt… only then can we truly expect Armie to make the choices he will ultimately make, leaving things unsaid… will be harmful to you both,” Luca says with a deep sigh.

“He knows I love him… Armie knows I love him… ever since the beginning,” and Timmy feels small tender kisses falling on his head. “After all was said and done, he chose his career and his family over me.” Timmy burrows his head even deeper.

“I tried…” Timmy hiccups as his sobbing retreats, “I tried to not show him I still cared.. tried to not still be in love… but, I can’t seem to help it, Luca… I still love Armie…. I still love him with all my heart..” More tears fall at this final admission, this realization that the past days, months, years of trying to tell himself he was over Armie, telling himself that there was no chance left in the world for the two of them. Timmy cries hollowly, thinking, how cruel, it seems, being in love can sometimes be.

“We have to find him Luca… please say you’ll help me find him…” Timmy says while brushing the tears off his face. “I have to tell him… before… before it’s too late.”

With his head still firmly planted on his Luca’s shoulder, he bravely tries to open his eyes while taking more deep, calming breaths. As Timmy peers into the half-light of Luca’s foyer, he sees a figure silhouetted in the doorway leading to Luca’s living room, not even two feet away.

In a daze, his breathing becomes shallow. Is it possible?! Is it possible that Armie is actually here? Did he run to Luca? Did he run here for the same reason that Timmy did?! To seek Luca’s advice? His guidance? His help?!

Timmy wills himself to focus, but doesn’t trust his legs enough to let go of Luca just yet. Almost afraid of what he might be seeing, that Armie might really be standing there, listening to his sobbing, and his confessions of love. Timmy’s face flushes with heat at the thought of it.

Suddenly, Timmy legs give way, and he feels like he’s falling into a very deep, spiraling hole. As his eyes focused, it’s Luca standing there.... not Armie.

Timmy screams from the tops his lungs as he realizes it is Armie who he ran into when he blindingly crashed through the door, that it was Armie holding him, that it was Armie, who was hearing his confessions first hand.

Head spinning now, and his hands, now curled up in fists, start beating Armie’s chest, emotions raging, as Timmy continues to scream.

“How could you?!... How could you do that to me?!!... I called after you.. I begged you to stop… I begged you to come back!!! Timmy screamed and wailed in despair… but Armie kept his grip on Timmy as he struggled to get away, to liberate himself… so not to remain in his arms… which were lovingly wrapped around him moments ago, arms that now feel, somehow, repugnant.

“Let me go!!” Timmy throws his head back and wails again and again. But Armie will always be taller than him, will always be stronger than him, will always be more steady than him, and he feels Armie’s embrace tighten even more.. to ensure no escape, to the point that Timmy finds it difficult to take deep breaths anymore.

He pummels and scratches at Armie’s face, and for a split second, the arms around him fail in their grip, giving Timmy some room to maneuver. He can hear Luca yelling at Armie to let him go.. but as Timmy squirms and struggles, Armie leans into Timmy, trapping him between a corner and his own body.. face now bloody, his handsome features now marred.

Desperate to escape Armie's clutches, Timmy knees Armie in his privates, and when Armie, finally succumbing to the blinding pain Timmy has inflicted, lets go of Timmy as he doubles over, gasping for breath. Timmy reaches for the door knob but is blocked by Armie’s body. “Fuck,” Timmy screams in agony, in protest… as he retreats into the living room.

Timmy rushes to find the furthest chair from the entrance, and he settles in it, face blanched, but not etched in fear. A deadly seriousness seems to enshroud all of Timmy’s being. Armie staggers in the living room, and, seeing the deadly, staring face of Timmy, is suddenly wary… and grabs a chair to sit in front on Timmy, but not daring to come any closer.

Luca comes in from the kitchen, handing Armie a warm, wet rag to clean his bloody face, welts appearing where Timmy attacked. Armie looks at the now bloody rag, and mutters quietly, “Fuck.” Timmy grips the sides of his armchair, chin defiant, staring unapologetically.

Armie stares back in wonder and awe. He can’t help himself but to admire Timmy. He fought back, against all the odds, and it seems, at least for this round, Timmy has triumphed. “Maybe I’ll have a scar now,” he says wonderingly, not really caring if he ends up with one or not.

“Good,” Timmy stares back, jaws tense, anger still seething, breaths still rapid and shallow, chest rising and falling. “Maybe, in the future, you’ll think twice before pissing me off.” Timmy says through gritted teeth, unrelenting, his knuckles white from gripping his chair so tightly.

“I was right all along, wasn’t I?” Armie says quietly as his face softens. “You are like the fierce honey badger. I should have known not to mess with you,” he says, at a weak attempt to defuse the situation.

“Stop,” Timmy says, rising from his chair. “Just… stop.” He is so fucking mad at Armie right now, and yet his mind remains lucid, remains clear. He gives Armie a deadly look. “When I walk out of here, you may very well never see me again… and this is all you can muster?!!”

Armie groans and leans his head forward and hides his face in hands. Timmy turns to glare at Luca. He is still seething. He shakes his head, but no words find their way out of his mouth.

Knowing now that neither man will attempt to stop him, Timmy strides to the front door and escapes into the early dawn.


	5. The Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Armie finally gets his chance for a heart-to-heart with Timmy before Timmy leaves with Oliver for New England.

Timmy’s bags are packed for New England and stand ready by the door. Denny had texted him that he would be there to pick him up soon so that he could drive him and Oliver to the airport to catch their flight to the States.

A stream of texts received over the past three or four hours from both Armie and Luca had preceded Denny’s message. Those messages, although Timmy tried to ignore them, at least remained largely unanswered.

Waiting for Denny to arrive, he couldn’t resist rereading the texts again.

Armand - Hi

Armand – I know I have no right to you

Armand – I have to tell you how sorry I am

Armand – Can I see you?

Armand – Are you ok?

Armand – Why won’t you answer?

Armand – I have no right to expect you to get over what happened right away

Armand – I know that

Luca – I’m sorry my dear. I did not mean for it to happen like that. What occurred a short while ago certainly was not planned in any way.

Armand – You’re still mad at me, aren’t you?

Armand – You must know I still love you

Armand – I know you still love me

Armand – I hope that still means something

Luca – Armie is still here with me. We both have not slept. This, of course, is not your fault. I have suspended production for today. The rest of the crew have the day off.

Armand – Please answer me

Armand – You’re killing me

Luca – Denny will pick you up this morning around 10:00AM and take you and Oliver to the airport. I shall see you stateside. I hope you do not hate me too much. Armie is a mess. And I am not referring to his face. It doesn’t look too bad, though. He almost looks normal now.

Armand – Please Timmy

Armand – Let me see you before you leave

Armand – I didn’t mean for it to go down like that

Armand – Please believe me

Armand – God why won’t you answer?

Timmy sniffs, eyes filled with sadness. It’s true, even he hasn’t slept either. He consoles himself by thinking he will have plenty of time to do just that on the plane. At least it will be an excuse not to have to talk to Oliver during the entire flight. Ugh, what to tell Oliver. Timmy hopes he will not bring it up. Then Timmy shakes head. He is sure he is wrong about this. He will need to formulate something in his head before that happens.

A knock on the door startles him back to the present.

Timmy jumps up and hastily stuffs his phone into his pocket. “It’s open,” he calls out behind him, as he turns to stride to the bathroom, to wash away any remnants, any telltale signs, of crying, of being sleep-deprived, of being filled with sadness. Timmy knows a simple face-washing will neither erase not cure any of these things. Yet, he must still try, he thinks to himself.

‘”Ugh, I look like shit” he sighs to himself, face dripping with water. “Fuck it,” he mutters, as he takes a towel to dry his face and hands. “What does it matter, anyways,” he whispers into the air, as he looks at himself in the mirror, making last minute adjustments to his clothing.

Timmy heads out of the bathroom and suddenly stops in his tracks. It isn’t Denny standing there. It’s Armie. It’s Armie who is standing there, just past the threshold, looking disheveled in his clothes from who knows when, from last night, from this morning. Armie is staring at Timmy’s luggage, then looks up as he notices that Timmy is back in the room.

Armie takes a deep breath but says nothing. His hands are stuffed in his pockets and he is blinking rapidly as he tries to steady his gaze towards Timmy’s face.

Timmy takes a step back, finding he can’t look at Armie, choosing instead to look at the ugly and ancient Italian area rug in front of him. He protectively wraps his arms around himself.

After a long moment, Timmy manages to say, “What are you doing here?” Timmy’s breathing is becoming increasingly ragged, so he shuts his eyes, trying to calm himself down. Armie still doesn’t answer.

“What do you want?” Timmy ask, resignedly, after he deems the silence too stifling. He ventures a glance at Armie’s face. Luca was right. His face seems back to normal, albeit now covered with a light, scruffy beard. Armie stares back at Timmy, with eyes filled with sadness and regret.

Timmy’s heart tugs at him, commands him. ‘Go to him, comfort him, just make sure he’s ok. Just check.’ Timmy shakes his head to clear it. “No, dammit, no..” he mutters, suddenly unsure if he was thinking it to himself or if he was, indeed, saying it out loud.

He must have said it out loud because Armie begins to step closer. “Please don’t…” Timmy warns him shakily, and holds a palm out, shaking his head and half closing his eyes. Armie stays put and rakes his hair in frustration.

“Can we… can we at least sit down a moment and talk about this?” Armie pleads. “I don’t want to sit down,” Timmy replies, barely audible, arms once again folding over his chest and shoulders in a protective posture.

“What you said last night or what you said this morning. I realize you could totally choose to walk out of my life, never to be seen again. I do realize that. And… and I hope to God that will never happen,” Armie says, thrusting his hands in his pockets again and fidgeting in place.

“I deserved everything you hurled at me… deserved even more… I realize that,” Armie continues. “I hope that this is… that it doesn’t mean..,” Armie shakes his head as he fumbles for words, unusual for someone who is generally regarded as articulate, and so well-spoken. “I… I just hope this doesn’t mean the end of us,” Armie finally manages to say.

Timmy sighs. “We will probably always be friends, Armie,” Timmy says quietly, “but this ‘us’ you’re talking about, this ‘us’ you are referring to, never really happened, not… really..” Timmy looks up to the ceiling and then back down again. “All those moments, were stolen… we stole them… and there isn’t anything left to show for it..”

“Are you saying they didn’t mean anything to you? Because… because those moments mean the world to me..” Armie admits. “Timmy takes a deep breath and says, “I will cherish them until the day I die, Armie… and you know that is the truth.. but I am still me.. Armie… and you are still you… nothing has changed..” Timmy finishes hollowly.

“Can’t we just go back to how it was? To.. to how we were?” Armie asks. Timmy has no reply. He instinctively hugs himself tighter, willing the tears that are threatening to fall to just stay in place. “I can’t Armie… I really can’t… I died the first time… I died when you didn’t choose me… I died when you left me..” Timmy, unable to continue, spins on the spot and turns his back to Armie, and begins to sob into his hands.

Predictively, or maybe even hopefully, Armie is now behind him, pulling him in a tight embrace. Timmy groans softly in protest, but Armie hugs even tighter, and mutters against Timmy’s ear, “Please… please just let me hold you… please.”

Timmy can feel Armie’s eyelashes fluttering against him as his own tears continue to flow. He can feel Armie’s ragged breath against his ear, as Armie rocks them back and forth, slowly, bringing an unexpected calm to both of them. “Give me some time to work things out..” Armie says huskily.

“Give me a chance.. a chance to make this all work out… for both of us…” Armie says raggedly, as he continues to press his face against Timmy’s. Timmy feels his resistance ebbing, feels the tide of emotion, desire, washing over him as he throws his head back with abandon.

“Armie,” Timmy begins quietly, unsure of what words will come out, what words will spill out of their own volition.

“Mr. Chalamet?” Denny’s voice calls out he tentatively steps into the suite. “Mr Cha.. “ Denny stops in mid-sentence as he sees Armie and Timmy whirl around to face him, still locked in a tight embrace, Armie still behind Timmy, locking his arms even more tightly as Timmy begins to squirm. Armie gives Denny one of his patented red-carpet smiles, unsettling the young PA even more.

“Mr. Chalamet. Mr. Hammer.” Denny flushes a bright pink as he smiles apologetically. “I am… I’m so sorry to interrupt.” Denny stutters as he continues to explain his sudden appearance, “The door was wide open and..” Suddenly Oliver steps through the door and his eyes widen as he stops advancing, as he takes in the scene.

In a flash, Armie’s demeanor changes, as he smiles smugly and says playfully, “Oops.. I guess this means the two of you will be needing Timmy now. “Be careful with Timmy,” he playfully chides the two men before him. “He hasn’t had a wink of sleep, isn’t that right, honey?” Armie manages to give Timmy a swift peck on the cheek as he finally releases him. Timmy feels awkward, face flushed, as Oliver smiles and politely nods to the both of them and Denny, looking embarrassed beyond measure, quickly turns to grab Timmy’s luggage and promptly proceeds out the door.


	6. The Ride to Fiumicino

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Timmy finally gets some answers from Luca during the trek to the terminal.

Oliver is snoring gently on Timmy’s shoulder as they are driven to the airport. Denny is up front with the driver. Timmy tried to take a nap, but he’s feels he’s at that weird point of being so sleep-deprived, that he feels almost too tired to sleep somehow. Plus, his mind won’t turn off, anyway.

Timmy’s mind has been racing. He replays this morning’s events over and over in his head and he finds himself feeling so confused. Plus, Oliver being in such close proximity to him isn’t helping. Armie used to sleep on his shoulder all the time. And Oliver is just as tall as Armie, Oliver is just as handsome as Armie. Oliver has beautiful eyes like Armie, but with a hint of green mixed with the blue when compared with Armie’s. Oliver’s beard is just like Armie’s.

‘Ughh, get a grip and just chill, Timmy,’ he tells himself. But Timmy knows he won’t rest, knows he can’t rest, until he solves this damned puzzle. He needs to call Luca. He needs to call him right now, but can’t assure himself that his conversation won’t be overheard by Oliver, who is dozing right beside him, as every turn, every bump in the road, pushes Oliver’s face further and further into Timmy’s neck.

Timmy can feel Oliver’s warm breath on his collarbone and Oliver’s hair keeps brushing against Timmy’s jaw. Timmy presses a hand against the swelling in his jeans, willing his body to regain control. Why, the fuck, does his body respond so easily? Is it because this feels so familiar?!

Suddenly he has an idea. It’s not ideal, since he would rather talk than text regarding this matter, but, he guesses, this will have to do, in light of the current circumstances. Timmy fishes for his cell phone, pulls it out of his pocket, then proceeds to text Luca.

Timmy – Why him? Why Oliver?

Timmy bites his lower lip as he waits for an answer. Then he squeezes his eyes shut tightly and grimaces as his phone begins to ring. Oliver moans against his neck, almost stirring, as he quickly answers Luca’s call.

“I am surprised you would text me regarding this. I would think that you and I could agree, that this subject would require more of a talk, a conversation.”

Timmy clears his throat and whispers, “yes.”

“But I am assuming Oliver is sitting beside you. That must be the reason why you are whispering to me, is that correct?”

“Yes,” Timmy’s whispers again.

“Okay, I will do all the talking. And you can just listen or interject when you can. First things first. Are you still mad at me?” Luca asks gently.

“No.”

“I am certainly glad to hear that. I would have come to your place to talk to you right away, but I was very afraid Armie would insist on coming with me. Plus, I had figured you needed some time to process what transpired and to give yourself a chance to calm down. I, for one, am too old to suffer the rage you inflicted on Armie. Bravo, by the way, my dear. I was, how shall I say, both proud and scared at the same time.” Luca chuckles softly.

“Sorry,” Timmy mumbles.

“No need to apologize, Timmy. It is I who must apologize. Never had I thought that it would happen the way it did. Armie came by my Villa after seeing you this morning. He told me that you and he were able to clear the air somewhat. He is now sleeping on my couch. I don’t think he wanted to be alone.”

Timmy clears his throat but says nothing.

“So, getting back to your question. ‘Why him? Why Oliver?’ I want to assure you that I have thought about this for a while now. How the script must be as believable and true-to-life as possible. James and I do not want any false moments in anything we do for this sequel.”

Timmy nods his head, even though he knows Luca can’t see him.

“Oliver plays the part of Michael, your love interest, I mean Elio’s love interest, when Elio goes abroad to continue his studies. In the second book, ‘Michel’ is a lawyer who is twice Elio’s age. I did not think Elio would want to replace Oliver with a father figure. James came up with this brilliant idea and suggested that we morph Michel into Michael, an American lawyer/AIDS activist and that he should be approximately Oliver’s age, meaning Armie’s character’s age.”

“Okay,” Timmy replies quietly.

“Well at least we didn’t name him ‘Maynard’, like the minor character in the first book,” Luca chuckles again.

“Gee, thanks,“ Timmy whispers, rolling his eyes in amusement.

“James and I drew mostly from how we thought Elio would replace Oliver. So, in this case, Michael is a sort of surrogate. Since Elio cannot have Oliver, he subconsciously replaces him with Michael. Someone just as tall, someone just as intelligent, someone just as passionate, someone just as beautiful. We discovered, to our great delight, that we found these qualities in the Oliver sitting now beside you.”

“Fuck,” Timmy whispers hoarsely as another jolt brings Oliver’s lips to his neck, now softly grazing back and forth. Oliver’s hand has slipped from Timmy’s thigh into Timmy’s lap and is dangerously close, too close for comfort and for concealment.

“Are you okay, Timmy?” Luca says, with concern in his voice.

“Yes,” Timmy assures Luca, breathlessly.

“Okay. Well, I wanted to say your interactions upon meeting Oliver and your reactions to what has transpired within the last 24 hours doesn’t surprise me one bit. In fact, I have to admit, you have acted exactly the way James and I had predicted you would react, the way Elio would react, because you and Elio are so very similar. This bodes very well for the film.”

Timmy swallows hard but says nothing, heat rising in his cheeks.

“I also confess that Armie has reacted in the manner we predicted – with jealously and longing. I apologize if you feel that we have somehow manipulated either one of you. I am very concerned of what will happen when the filming is over and we begin the promotion process for the film. You have confided in me and told me everything you wanted to share regarding you and Armie. I know you are risking heartbreak again, Timmy, and for this I am sorry.”

Timmy sighs and breathes deeply.

“Oliver, has seemingly thrown himself into his character as well. It is evident he is very attracted to you, and he dotes on you, and he only has good things to say about you. I would never assume, but, let me tell you this. If Armie doesn’t come to his senses and make things right between the two of you, I don’t think anyone would blame you if you chose Oliver instead. He is very attractive, he is very charming, and most importantly, he is very available.”

As if on cue, Oliver starts nuzzling contentedly in Timmy’s neck, his body snuggling closer to Timmy’s.

‘Oh God,” mutters to himself, as his body begins to react and respond to Oliver’s movements and he feels himself getting hard again.

“Uh Luca, I’ll have to call you back. Um, thanks, for everything,” then disconnects the call.

In the rearview mirror, Timmy sees the driver look up in reaction to what he said, and Denny, seeing the driver take notice and peering into the mirror, quickly turns his head and then does a double-take when he sees Oliver curled up against Timmy.

Denny’s eyes widen as he shyly looks at Timmy and Oliver. Timmy blushes a bright pink. “He’s asleep,” Timmy mouths the words almost inaudibly to Denny. Denny glances at Oliver and the quickly glances back at Timmy and gives him a shy smile.

Noticing that Timmy is a bit uncomfortable with what is happening, Denny clears his throat, and says aloud,” Mr. Chalamet? Mr. Jackson-Cohen? Sorry to disturb you both, but we shall be arriving at the terminal very shortly.” Oliver snuggles subconsciously into Timmy once more.

Timmy flashes Denny a grateful look and then manages to say aloud, “Thank you, Denny.” At this, Oliver is jolted awake, and seeing how he is hunched into Timmy, he gives a sleepy, somewhat bashful smile to Timmy and shyly says, “Oops, sorry about that,” in his gorgeous British accent, then stretches a bit and leans his head back, sighing contentedly.

As Denny turns away, Oliver suddenly blushes as he notices he’s half hard. “Oh fuck,” he whispers as he tries push his privates back into place. Then he notices Timmy in the same predicament and so Oliver leans into him and whispers into his ear, “What did you do me?”

“Me?,” Timmy protests. “You were the one snuggling up against me.” Seeing Timmy’s embarrassment, Oliver giggles softly.

“I bet you weren’t even asleep, were you?” Timmy half-jokingly accuses Oliver, then giggles at the thought.

“Maybe… maybe not,” Oliver drawls sexily back.

Timmy shyly draws the back of his hand against his lips, as Oliver says, “You want to know what I think?” Oliver gently clasps Timmy’s hand, laces his fingers through Timmy’s, and suggestively places their entwined hands on his thigh.

“I think the next nine hours will be a lot of fun, don’t you?”


	7. The Mile-High Club

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Timmy is no longer a nervous flier as Oliver throws the gauntlet down at Armie's feet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. Like I said. I read all the comments and they are so precious to me.  
> I appreciate all of them. Having said that, please remember, that in my Tags for this work, I have definitely been upfront about the relationships being drawn out during the course of this story - Timmy/Armie and Timmy/Oliver. Also, the Tags say, Happy Ending, and Angst, fluff, and smut, and clearly says strained relationships. Those will all be delivered.  
> So please, keep those kudos and comments coming. Each chapter reveals itself because of those wonderful and exciting comments.  
> Thank you all for reading!

“Okay, would you like the bad news or the good news first?”

Denny had just walked into the private lounge, after assisting Timmy and Oliver finish checking into their flight to the states. He had also helped them bypass the crowd of fans waiting for Timmy at the airport. Sometimes these Stans knew more of Timmy’s itinerary than Timmy knew himself.

Oliver spoke up first. “Let’s hear the bad news first. This way we can end on a good note,” he says, flashing a grin at Denny. Denny smiles appreciatively and Timmy notices a faint blush rising on Denny’s cheeks.

“Well the bad news is, there will be a thirty to forty-five minute delay before passengers with a first class ticket can begin boarding. The reason for this, is because they are waiting for the plane at the gate to depart, and unfortunately it is late in doing so,” Denny nods to both Timmy and Oliver, checking to see if they have any questions regarding this.

Denny continues. “The good news is, you both have been upgraded to share a suite in first class which accommodates two, including a small dining area and a private bathroom and shower for use during the flight. All amenities are provided, so no need to worry about not having supplies with you, in your hand-carry.”

Oliver beams with delight at Denny and glances towards Timmy for his reaction. Timmy smiles warmly at Denny and then turns to Oliver, his breath catching a little, then nods and smiles at him as well.

Soon they say goodbye to Denny and are being escorted by a flight attendant to their suite. Alana, their assigned suite host, points out the features of the suite and demonstrates the use of the menu-driven tablets, which they can use to summon assistance, lock and unlock the suite access panel, and order meals and activate the wall flat-panel monitor for entertainment.

Alana reminds them both that the suite access panel must be unlocked and remain open during take-off and landing, and the window shades must also be left in the open position during those times. They can watch the safety featurette on the tablet as well as on the monitor.

“Please do not hesitate to summon me to answer any questions you may have. We can either talk over the tablet or through the suite access panel,” directing their attention to a small tablet embedded into the wall by the portal. “Just lift the cover to talk. The cover is there to ensure the utmost privacy for our guests.”

“Our first dining experience begins in 2 hours. You also have an option to schedule meals, at times better suited to your schedule. There are snacks by your minibar, and you may make your choices for dining at any time. Please allow up to thirty minutes for us to deliver your meal to this suite. Do you have any questions at this time, Mr. Chalamet, Mr. Jackson-Cohen?”

Oliver smiles at Alana, as Timmy shakes his head and says warmly, “Thank you, Alana.” “My pleasure,” she replies as she takes her leave.

Timmy looks at Oliver, hardly able to contain his delight. “I heard suites like this go for like ten to fifteen thousand dollars or something.”

“F-fuck..” Timmy groans in awe. Oliver looks ecstatic, taking in every drop of Timmy’s mood right now. Timmy’s infectious demeanor leaves Oliver grinning and wide-eyed.

“I’m so happy it’s you I get to share it with,” Oliver tells Timmy, with a seductive look. Timmy flushes a little and looks straight into Oliver’s blue-green eyes. “Are you hoping something might happen while we’re onboard, Oliver? “Well… I thought maybe we could start our get-to-know-each-other rehearsals at thirty thousand feet,” replies Oliver, leaning in.

“We’ll see,” Timmy teases and then ducks away from Oliver, giggling. “Aw, c’mon… It’s our job!” Oliver objects, in his accented drawl as he follows him around in the suite. “Oh?… is that all I am to you, Oliver? A job?” Timmy asks, in mock wide-eyed innocence. “C’mon now…” Oliver says as he corners Timmy by the bathroom door. “I think you know you mean more to me than…”

Oliver is interrupted by a message coming across the cabin intercom. “Ladies and Gentlemen, This your captain speaking, and on behalf of the flight crew..” Timmy doesn’t’ hear the rest of the message. Oliver has just taken possession of Timmy’s mouth and has leaned his weight against Timmy’s body, embracing him tightly.

After a long, impatient, wet kiss, Oliver turns his attention to Timmy’s jawline and neck, making the younger man groan softly. “So please ensure you are in your seats, ready for takeoff. Flight crew, prepare for departure.” Timmy reluctantly focuses his mind again, then gently pushes Oliver away.

“Saved by the bell,” he whispers to Oliver, while his tongue licks at the corners of his mouth, trying to reach all the moisture Oliver deposited there. Oliver is dazed, with a look etched in his handsome face that clearly says all he wants is to dive in again.

Timmy pecks him on the cheek and slips away, stumbling towards the seats, a swelling between his legs, hampering the ease of his usual stride. Oliver quickly follows and plops himself down right beside Timmy, then he grabs his hand, and gently brings it to his lips.

“Luca told me a little secret,” he teases. Timmy knits his eyebrows and looks quizzically back. “He told me I have to hold your hand at all times because you are a nervous flier, is that so?” he asks quietly.

Timmy lowers his gaze and nods slowly. “No worries then, love,” Oliver leans in to whisper into Timmy’s ear. “I’ll keep you so busy that you won’t even have time to be nervous.” Then Oliver gently licks his tongue into Timmy’s ear.

“Fuck..” Timmy moans softly into the air, eyes unfocused and half-lidded, and Oliver reaches over with his free hand to stroke Timmy’s thigh, next to his bulging crotch. Seeing how readily Timmy is responding to his advances, Oliver steps it up, lightly rubbing Timmy’s protruding bulge and gently squeezing his balls in the process.

“Unnghh,” moans Timmy, and Oliver plants his mouth against Timmy’s ear. “Ssshhh… keep it down…” But Timmy can feel Oliver smiling against his ear, and he can feel his hot breath warming the side of his face, his beard, rubbing Timmy’s delicate skin raw.

Oliver lets go of Timmy’s hand so he can turn Timmy’s face to him, and reclaim the scarlet lips that taunt him in his dreams, using his tongue to roughly invade the insides of Timmy’s open mouth, reveling in the taste of it, in the heat of it, wondering how Timmy’s lips and mouth would feel, wrapped tightly around his throbbing manhood. They continue to make out, as the long moments draw on.

Timmy whines as he feels Oliver’s warm hand leave its place between his legs as Oliver, gets up unsteadily on his feet. While still heatedly kissing Timmy, Oliver reaches blindly for one of the tablets, fumbling for the device. “Fuuck..” Oliver moans into Timmy’s mouth, as he grabs wildly about. Timmy’s hands instinctively grab Oliver’s head, pressing it down to his own, as his heat and desire overtakes his senses.

Oliver, finally locating the damned device, quickly glances at the screen while keeping his lips firmly planted against Timmy’s. Oliver leans his weight into Timmy and release the catch on his seat, reclining the seat occupied by Timmy in one smooth movement.

He releases his grip on the tablet as it tumbles down to ground, and lays his body on Timmy’s. As he repeatedly fulfills Timmy’s need for his kisses, Oliver stealthily glances about, impatiently tracking the portal, as the access panel slides silently in place, and an LED above it turns from glowing green to a bright red, indicating the panel is securely locked.

Timmy’s eyes flutter momentarily, and he mutters dazedly, “What? What are you doing out of your seat..” “It’s okay love,” Oliver whispers, as his lips finds the warmth of Timmy’s neck. “We’re already in the air.”

Timmy turns his head to find clouds obscuring his view to the rapidly darkening sky. He knows it’ll get dark before it gets light again, as they chase the sun westward, towards their final destination.

“I missed the takeoff?” Timmy murmurs dreamily. “Shhhh. Don’t move,” Oliver commands Timmy, as he slowly makes his way off of Timmy, gently unbuttoning Timmy’s shirt so he can plant loving, gentle kisses along the way down.

When Oliver’s knees touch the floor, he rubs his face into the jean-covered bulge and gently gnaws at it, eliciting a wanton groan from Timmy’s bruised lips, while leaving wet marks on the fabric, as he uses his hands to deftly unbutton the jeans. Timmy’s eyes focus and unfocus rapidly, watching Oliver intently, as Oliver roughly pulls Timmy’s jeans toward his ankles.

Oliver nuzzles his face against Timmy’s underwear, inhaling deeply, licking at its edges, teasing Timmy until his breathing turns ragged. Then keeping his smoldering gaze into Timmy’s face, he slides his underwear down, ejecting Timmy’s hard cock from its confines, Oliver’s own cock, still trapped in his pants.

Oliver rubs his face and beard into Timmy’s groin, and as the rough hair prickles his cock and balls, Timmy throws his head back, and gyrates his hips into Oliver’s face. Oliver licks up and down the swollen shaft that stands proudly before him, looking even bigger than he imagined, because of the contrast between its size to Timmy’s rail-thin body.

After he is convinced that Timmy is about ready to pop, he gently swirls his tongue around Timmy’s cockhead, and smoothly swallows him down to the short hairs. One movement, and Timmy’s cock is fully engulfed, wedged into the entrance of Oliver’s throat. The heat of Oliver’s mouth overwhelms Timmy. Oliver expertly tightens his lips and pistons his mouth and throat up and down Timmy’s rock-hard bone.

One, two, and before he can finish a third stroke, Timmy suddenly bolts up and grabs Oliver’s head, hunching his hips against Oliver’s face, as he releases ropes of sweet cum into Oliver’s accepting mouth and throat. Timmy grits his teeth, and tries to contain his moans. Timmy’s moans are music to Oliver’s ears, as he swallows, then swallows, then swallows again, thirstily drinking in Timmy’s essence.

Timmy shudders as his cock gets too sensitive, and Oliver releases it from its hot, wet prison, and he lazily raises himself up to lay his body against Timmy’s, Oliver’s cock is still hard and is pressing against Timmy. Timmy returns Oliver’s playful kisses, then tries to maneuver Oliver so he can return the favor. “Uh-uh,” Oliver shakes his head teasingly, and holds his fingers against Timmy’s open mouth.

“We still have another eight hours trapped in here. Let’s pace ourselves, shall we?” Oliver says with a grin. Timmy whines and pouts, but Oliver shakes his head again and covers the pout with his own mouth.

“Why don’t we freshen up a bit… maybe test out the shower.. before we have our… how did she put it? Oh yes… our ‘dining experience’…” and they both giggle softly.

Timmy pushes hard against Oliver, and squirms his way past him, “Last one in the shower is a rotten egg.” He laughs heartily as he almost trips on his own jeans bundled around his ankles, as Oliver hops around, trying to rid himself of clothes.

Timmy is halfway through the door to the bathroom when they hear a phone ringing. Oliver locates the source of the ringing, and finds Timmy’s phone lighting up by his feet. “Why is your phone ringing? We must be over international waters by now.”

“I signed up for that sky-call thingy while we were waiting to board.” Timmy replies, grinning sheepishly.

Oliver bends over to pick up the device and notices Armie’s face on the screen. He grabs the phone and holds it in his hand and says, “Its Denny. Do you want me to answer it or do you want it to go to voicemail?” Timmy shrugs, so Oliver looks at the screen and connects the call. Gesturing silently to Timmy that he’ll take care of Denny and that he should proceed to the shower, he watches Timmy disappear before he answers “Hello?”

“Timmy?” Armie says. “Hey, its actually uh, Oliver,” Oliver says into the phone.

”Where’s Timmy? I need to speak with him.”

“Uh yeah… about that..” Oliver replies. “He just stepped into the shower,” then Oliver pauses to quickly glance over his shoulder, making sure Timmy hasn’t reemerged from the bathroom, then continues in a firm whisper,” and I’m about to follow him in..”

A split second of silence, and then Armie is shouting and ranting expletives as Oliver holds the handset away from his ear. After about half a minute, Oliver ventures to listen to what Armie is ranting about. He gets words and phrases like “I will fucking kill you if you lay a hand on Timmy” and “You’re a dead man, you hear me? You fucking hear me?!”

“Armie, be reasonable,” he calmly says, as Armie continues to rant at the top of his voice. “You had your chance, and you fucking blew it.” Suddenly Armie is quiet. And Oliver hears ragged breathing, much to his satisfaction. “What are you gonna do, huh? Run to Luca?.... ‘Cause I think he’s on my side.. I’m not gonna stand idle while you fucking break Timmy’s heart again.”

“Don’t you fucking touch him,” Armie finally manages to say, growling in a deep, deadly voice. “Come at me then.. with all you got,” Oliver challenges back, then hangs up and holds the button to deactivate the device. He rids himself of all clothing and saunters into the bathroom to join Timmy.


	8. Up, Up and Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Timmy enjoys pie in the sky, then a cryptic call from Nick brings him back down to earth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update, folks.  
> Hope you are all still with me <3  
> All those comments are precious and lovely.  
> Thank you for continuing to read!

Oliver steps into the small bathroom, wanting nothing more than to share an intimate moment in the shower with Timmy.

The sight of Timmy’s naked body, glistening underneath the spray of water, temporarily stuns Oliver. He spies on Timmy, his head thrown back, eyes closed, body seemingly swaying to music only Timmy can hear, playing in his head.

Timmy’s eyes fly open when he hears the sound of the shower door opening. He smiles warmly at Oliver, and as Oliver steps up to the threshold of the tiny shower, Timmy grins and says, “You’re fucking kidding, right?”

“No, I’m not,” Oliver says, grinning back, and then steps into the shower. The space is so small that their bodies rub together and squeak against the fiberglass walls. After realizing the absurdity of two grown men occupying a shower built for one, the bathroom is soon filled with hysterical laughter. Timmy leans his head forward into Oliver’s glistening chest.

After a long moment, they realize that no meaningful showering can actually be done in such tight quarters, but Oliver doesn’t seem to care. He grabs Timmy’s chin gently and lifts his face to his. He looks down at Timmy’s scarlet lips and slowly licks his own.

Timmy shyly lowers his forehead to rest on Oliver’s stubbly chin, and then they lean into each other, both loving the way the warm water gently washes over both their entwined bodies.

Timmy then looks up and says reluctantly, “I’m done anyway.” Then, after receiving a resigned nod from Oliver, Timmy squirms his way past him. He closes the glass shower door behind him, standing there for a moment, admiring Oliver’s lanky, well-muscled body, and his heavily-veined manhood, swaying gently, as Oliver, eyes shut tight, washes his hair.

As Timmy towel-dries his hair, he keeps glancing at Oliver’s form through the reflection in the mirror. Rinsing off, Oliver suddenly open his eyes and sees Timmy looking at him appraisingly, then breaks into a wide grin. Timmy blushes, ducks his head nervously, then grabs a clean robe and heads out of the door.

When Oliver finishes showering, he towels off and quickly puts on a robe himself, eager to reconnect with Timmy. He steps out of the bathroom, only to find him, still wrapped in his robe, curled up on the bed, sleeping soundly.

Remembering that Timmy hadn’t slept at all, and that he himself could use some sleep as well, he gets into the small bed and gently spoons Timmy’s slight form with his own. Soon, Oliver is gently snoring against Timmy’s slender neck.

Hours later, a melodious chime stirs Oliver from his sleep. He quickly glances at his watch. Over two-thirds of the flight time has elapsed, and he finds himself suddenly feeling famished. The chime sounds again and Oliver looks around for the one of the tablets. He quickly scans the screen and pressed a glowing green button.

“Yes?” he says into the tablet. “Hello, Mr. Jackson-Cohen,” says Alana. “I just wanted to check up on you both,” she says apologetically.

“Actually, I’m glad you called, Alana,” Oliver replies. “Is it possible to place a meal order at the moment?”

“Absolutely,” replies Alana. She directs Oliver to look at the tablet screen and invites him to order all the things he would like. “I recommend the pear and foie gras with the grilled Wagyu filet mignon. Also, we have an excellent Sicilian salad.”

“Okay, yeah, why don’t we order that for two, and a dessert and cheese sampler as well.” Oliver pauses. “Would it be possible to also order a New-York-style plain cheese pizza?”

“Of course, Mr. Jackson-Cohen,” replies Alana, reassuringly. “Also, please, don’t forget to place your drink orders. We can mix an array of drinks from our full-service bar and we also stock a variety of beverages from different corners of the world. I’ll alert you when we are ready to serve your food in your suite.”

“Thank you, Alana,” Oliver says warmly and disconnects.

Oliver hesitates a moment, then lays back down to cuddle Timmy.

“Wake up, love,” he says quietly, as he kisses Timmy’s nape and ear.

“Mmmm,” Timmy groans as he turns and cuddles Oliver back, his face seeking the warm crook under his chin.

“Dinner is almost ready,” he whispers into Timmy’s curls. “Maybe we should get dressed, before Alana comes?”

“No dressy…. need kissy..” moans Timmy, in a sleepy voice. “Need daddy..” he continues, then raises his head to seek Oliver’s mouth.

Oliver obliges, kissing him back hungrily, wanting to make the moment last. He moans as their robes open, and they are able to entwine their bodies together. Their tongues duel as they seek the heat and wetness from each other’s mouths.

“Wait!” Timmy says abruptly, his eyes wide, pulling his lips away from Oliver’s, with a loud smacking sound. “Did you say ‘food’? Ahh, I am so fucking hungry,” Timmy says, laughing out loud, as he jumps out of the small bed.

Oliver groans at the sudden loss of intimacy, and rolls over to lay flat on his back, raking his fingers through his hair. “Fuuck,” he hisses softly into the air, staring blankly at the cabin ceiling.

Timmy is rummaging through the snacks by the mini-bar, then exclaims, “I can’t believe this.. they have Cheetos and..” then he stops abruptly. He notices Oliver laying there, robe in disarray, his cock standing straight into the air.

“Oh my God… You’re as big as Ar… “Timmy stops himself before he completes the sentence, his face blossoming into all kinds of pink.

Oliver suddenly sits up on his haunches to face Timmy, his robe held loose around his thick thighs, his manhood bobbing with every heartbeat. He looks at Timmy, quite unsure of what Timmy had said, but still, a look of need and desire etched on his face.

“Sorry,” Timmy says shyly, as he averts his eyes away, rapidly blinking as he drops the snacks back down into the small wicker basket.

Suddenly Oliver is at his side, embracing him. “Don’t ever be sorry, love,” he says huskily into Timmy’s ear. “You can look at me anytime you want. Feel free to take from me anything you want. Anything at all.” Oliver hunches into Timmy, and lets him feel how much he is desired.

Timmy relaxes and leans his head back into the embrace, then both of them groan, as a shrill chime is heard, indicating someone is at the portal.

“Oh shit,” Timmy giggles and begins frantically looking around for his clothes. Oliver calls out, “Coming!” and they both look at each other, and start laughing softly.

After managing some semblance of being presentable, Oliver marches to the door and opens the access panel.

“Your dinner, sirs,” Alana says politely, as she leans forward to push the dinner cart toward the small dining area. “It will just take a moment for me to set up, and then I’ll be out of your way,” she says with a smile.

“Thank you,” Timmy whispers excitedly, as he sees the food being pushed past him. Alana is very efficient at setting up the table, and is out of the suite in no time at all, the access door, closing silently behind her.

“Wow, this looks so good,” Oliver says as they both sit down at the small table. Timmy looks over the food and nods in agreement, then he spies the pizza.

“You didn’t?” he exclaims in disbelief. Oliver nods and smiles widely, seeing how Timmy is over the moon about having freshly made pizza, one of his all-time favorite foods, high in the sky, flying over the Atlantic.

“And where did they dig this up?” Timmy asks in wonder, holding up a curvy bottle of ice-cold Orangina, a French soft drink.

“I looked through all the selections of drinks and found this one, native to France, so I thought you’d get a kick out of it,” Oliver says, shrugging his shoulders, face glowing with pride. “How does Orangina even taste like?”

Timmy throws his head back, howling with laughter. “You don’t say Orang-eye-na, like it rhymes with vagina,” he says, in between bouts of giggles. “It’s pronounced Orang-ee-na, with a long ee sound, like Geena Davis,” he manages to say, almost bent doubled-over with glee.

“So-rryy,” Oliver whines in amusement, Timmy’s infectious laughter is getting the best of him, and they both giggle as they raise their drinks in a toast, and settle in for a nice dinner.

The rest of the meal is spent talking about spending the next couple of days together, connecting with the landscape which is New England, connecting the lines between themselves and their characters, and working out plans to make sure their upcoming scenes are as true to life as possible.

“So, when was the last time you were in New England?” Oliver asks.

“I’ve been with my family a couple of times when I was younger. Don’t remember too much, only that during the times we went, I was way too cold, way too wet, and way too full, because of all the local food there, just like I am now,” Timmy finishes, with a sated look on his face. “Ugh, I’m stuffed.”

“Well, I hear we will be staying at the perfect…” but Oliver is once again interrupted by message over the intercom.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, This your captain speaking, and on behalf of the flight crew..”

“Is it that time already?” Oliver asks, looking at his watch. “Fuck, we’re due to land in about forty-five minutes.” As if on cue, a chime rings on the tablet with a text message from Alana, stating the cabin crew will be coming around, collecting dining carts and other waste products, in preparation for landing.

“Shall I hold your hand again?” Oliver asks Timmy, with a knowing smile.

“Maybe,” Timmy answers back, with a devilish grin spreading across his face.

“Hey,” Timmy says, suddenly remembering. “What did Denny want to talk to me about?”

“Uh, I told him you were in the shower and so he said he would just text you the details,” Oliver replies, looking innocently back at Timmy.

“Oh… okay.” Timmy looks around. “Where’s my phone?”

“I think it’s here in the wall pocket, underneath the flat panel.” Oliver stands up and quickly retrieves the device and hands it over to Timmy.

“My phone is off. Did I forget to charge it?” Timmy activates the phone and waits a moment.

“Do you have any messages?” Oliver asks, curiously.

“Just a text message. Marked urgent,” Timmy replies.

“From Denny? or Luca? or.. Armie?” Oliver asks hesitantly, raising his eyebrows in concern.

“No, not them.” Then Timmy holds his finger up, then quickly reads the text silently. It’s from Nick. The message is timestamped over six hours ago.

Nick – Call me as soon as you get this, please. Everything is okay. I just need you to call me as soon as you can.

Timmy looks in puzzlement at the text, then dials Nick’s number. Oliver peers over at him curiously.

The call connects after a couple of rings.

“Timmy, oh fuck… thank God,” Nick says in relief. “Am I on speakerphone?”

“No, I..” but Nick interrupts him.

“Please just listen. I’ll do all the talking. Don’t react. Just listen,” Nick says insistently.

“Nick, what’s go…”

“Please, Timmy. Just listen. And put on a happy face. Not a worried face. Please. I don’t know the whole story but Armie called me, a little over six hours ago, frantic as fuck, and Armie, pulling in all his favors, fucking flew me from LA to Boston, so I can meet with you when you land, just in case he’s not there to meet you himself. I’m to… to keep you safe. He didn’t explain much further.”

“Nick, I don’t underst..”

“Timmy,” Nick says urgently. “Please just hear me out. Luca and Armie decided to cancel today’s production in Crema and accompany you back to the States. But it seems your flight was overbooked, so they had to find an alternative flight.”

“I still don’t..”

“Timmy please. Just…. please. Let me finish. Armie’s been calling me every fifteen minutes to see if you had called me yet. I’m not sure why he wouldn’t just call you. But he said it was important that I be the one to relay the information. Timmy, please. Is your happy face on?”

“Why are you asking..”

“Timmy,” Nick groans. “You’re a fucking actor. And a smart one at that. Why would I be asking you to put on a happy face? Armie doesn’t want Oliver to know what’s going on.”

“Did something happen,” Timmy stops short, then looks blankly at Oliver, who has been staring at him this whole time.

“Smile, dammit…Smile… Come.. on.. Timmy!” Nick says in frustration. “Just nod, pretend I said April fools, giggle, whatever.. just don’t give the game away.”

Timmy takes a deep steady breath, then flashes a convincing grin to no one in particular. “Ah fuck,” Timmy says giggling. “You almost had me there, Nick.” Then he throws his head back in laughter.

“That’s it, Timmy,” Nick urges him on, relieved at hearing the laughter in Timmy’s voice. “That’s the boy I know who will win the next Oscar for Best Actor,” Nick says proudly. “Keep it up while I get you up to speed.”

Timmy nods and plays along. “Okaay,” he says, still smiling warmly. He nods and winks at Oliver, and Timmy notices his face relax.

“Like I said, they had to find an alternative flight. So they booked the flight directly before yours. They even had to fly a small plane from Crema to Rome. That’s how tight the schedule was. That’s also why your flight was delayed. Luca and Armie are important enough to delay a flight a few minutes. Denny was instructed not to tell you anything. You and Oliver were upgraded to make room in the already overbooked flight. You still with me?”

“Yes, that’s fucking unbelievable,” Timmy groans, but still smiling.

“Anyway, sometime early during their flight, Armie got a little antsy, thinking about you and Oliver all alone, and so he wanted to talk to you. To reassure himself. He said he tried to call you but..”

“I never got a ca..”

“Timmy! Stop… please… let me finish.” Nick groans. “Armie said he tried to call you but..” Nick hesitates. “He wouldn’t tell me anything beyond that,” Nick finishes quietly.

Timmy senses that Nick is not exactly being entirely truthful with him.

“Before you say anything,” Nick says, as if reading Timmy’s thoughts, “Armie wants to be the one to tell you.. but he wants to do so in person.”

Timmy licks his lips, but not wanting to give the game away, so he lets the smile remain plastered on his face.

“So that’s why I’m here. I’m here in Boston to meet you at your arrival gate, and to escort you safely to Armie.” Nick is silent for a moment. “I’m already at the gate. I even took a fucking selfie because Armie insisted on it” Nick laughs wryly.

Timmy nods and smiles, but remains silent.

“Your friend Saoirse is on her way here too. Apparently, Armie told her the whole story, and she just about dropped everything to be here for you. She was closer. She was already in New York, but had to make arrangements for her absence.” Nick stalls again.

“Damn Timmy, everyone must love you. They must love you enough to drop everything to come to your aid. I don’t even know the whole fucking story and I’m here, too.”

Timmy blushes and lets his eyes fall shut.

“Hey, you still with me? “Nick asks gently. “I would do anything for Armie… and for you… you know that, right?”

“Yeah.. I appreciate that,” Timmy whispers back.

“Can you hold on for another thirty minutes or so?” Nick asks, encouragingly. “I’ll be right here. Waiting for you. If all goes to plan, Luca and Armie will be with me as well. So, look surprised to see us, ok?

“Okay,” Timmy says, pushing his unruly curls behind his ears and looking at Oliver through his lashes, then shyly looks away.

“Okay,” Nick replies. I better call Armie as soon as we hang up, or else he’ll have a fit. Oh, speak of the devil,” Timmy hears a clicking sound over the line. Nicks laughs briefly and then disconnects.

Timmy hears the phone click, then absentmindedly raises it to his lips. ‘What the fuck is going on?’ he asks himself. ‘Why is everyone converging on my position? What does any of this have to do with Oliver?’ Timmy tries to puzzle it out, then he glances over Oliver’s way, and notices Oliver looking at him intently.

“Everything all right?” Oliver asks gently.

“Yes,” Timmy answers brightly. Perhaps a little too brightly, since Oliver’s face becomes unreadable.

“Everything’s fine,” Timmy reassures Oliver. Then Timmy gets up, and begins to get his belongings squared away in preparation for landing.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you, thank you, thank you!  
> Your comments and kudos are so precious!   
> I take the time to read each and every one of them.   
> Your comments help shape and nuance the story as it develops, although for the most part, this work seems to have a mind of its own.   
> I am just the lowly scribe of this totally fictional account of lives we cherish.


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